The past couple of nights, when I went to bed, I would notice something crunchy. Crumbs? Dirt? I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was.
Maybe it was dirt from when I had taken a nap after a long run? But, there was a lot. More than could have ever sruck to my legs without me noticing.
Well, this morning, the mystery was solved. Deep within the recesses of my sheets, towards the foot of my bed...the crust from a piece of toast.
Someone "borrowed" a piece of toast FROM THE COUNTER and nudged it within the depths of my sheets.
My money's on Sebastian.
But, there's really no way to now.
Note to self: don't leave toast on the counter.
That is all.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Long Overdue: Bailey
The ironic thing is that I actually wrote this about a month ago. Just haven't had the time to add all the adorable pictures that make the posts that much more readable (I like to think). Anyways, without further ado...Bailey.
To recap (from my post about Sebastian):
Then one day in mid-September, I was visiting my parents when we spy a fluffy white cat in their neighbor’s yard.
His name tag said Bailey. And he became cat #3.
My parents had never seen this cat before. They knew the neighborhood cats the way people in neighborhoods do. I go over into my neighbor’s yard (really an empty lot turned extremely bountiful botany experiment)and pick this little guy up. He’s docile as anything and then I see his collars: one cheap flea collar and a brown leather buckled collar with a tag that says: “Bailey” and then gives a phone number.
Being the good citizen/cat-lovers we are, we put this cat in our enclosed front porch with a litter box (my Mom has a few “guest” litter boxes – see, I come by the crazy cat lady thing honestly!), a bowl of water, and a plate of Fancy Feast. Bailey inhales the Fancy Feast. It was hard to tell through the fluff, but he was pretty emaciated. Gave him another can of FF, same thing. Then we put out a bowl of Meow Mix dry food, and I think he was finally full.
We called the number on his collar. Voicemail. Waited a few hours. Again, nothing.
Now my Mom has three cats (though she also has a husband and siginficantly more than 700 sq ft). I had brought Sebastian down to introduce him to the house as my Mom and Dad would be cat sitting while I went on vacation. Plus, he was still small enough to carry around.
Anyway, seeing that this cat might be with us for a while, we make a vets appointment to see if he has Feline Leukemia or Feline AIDS – both highly contagious. The appointment was the following morning.
That morning, my Mom tried the number again. Voicemail. We double-checked the number. Yup, that was it. We started to sense that something was up. I know if my cat were missing, I would be camped out by my cell phone, jumping at every ring.
In any case, I took Bailey to the vets – Middletown Animal Hospital. Dr. Velasquez is our vet of choice, but he wasn’t in that day, so Dr. Yurkas saw him. He gave him an exam and the two tests. He determined that Bailey was about 10 months to a year old and unneutered. The flea collar was useless and a little tight around Bailey’s neck. He had bad teeth from cheap-ass cat food and he was underweight. I think he weighed about 7 pounds at his first apointment. Dr. Y ventured that Bailey was part Himalayan. After he gave his assessment of Bailey’s physical state, he also gave an assessment of his situation: “No one’s gonna come looking for this cat.”
To which I thought: YYYAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY!!!
Because, of course, I had been falling in love with him.
As I pulled back into the driveway of my parent’s house, my Mom called (she was at a doctor’s appointment). She asked about the test results. “Negative, negative. He’s fine.” “Well, then you’ve got yourself a cat.” The cell phone person called. My Mom said she sounded like a teenaged girl. She was giggling and said “teehee Are you the one who keeps calling about a cat? That’s impossible. I don’t have a cat. Teehee”
If there is a heaven, she is so not getting in.
My theory: Bailey was probably a Christmas present. A cute, little white fluffy kitten. They didn’t know the first thing about cat care. Fed him the cheapest food, never took him to the vets. When male cats start reaching the age of sexual maturity - around 6 months, I think-, if they are not neutered, they start spraying to mark their territory. Bitch probably saw it as, “This stupid cat is peeing everywhere.” and kicked him out.
NEVER GIVE AN ANIMAL AS A PRESENT UNLESS YO ARE 200% SURE IT WILL BE TAKEN CARE OF PROPERLY THROUGHOUT ITS ENTIRE LIFE.
Because cute puppies and kittens do turn into what people may perceive as not-as-cute adult cats and dogs.
Do I look a little shorter now? I’m off my soapbox.
So, I chucked Bailey in a cat carrier and my parents kindly drove me, Sebastian, and Bailey back to Brooklyn.
It just so happened I had invited three friends – one of whom was moving away – for dinner. They were on their way when I walked in the door. Luckily, I had bought the salmon fillet and the asparagus the day before.
For all of the hoops I lept through for Sebastian’s introduction, I was the complete opposite with Bailey. I plunked him down on my living room floor and pretty much started cooking. My friends arrived as my parents were leaving. Being the dolls they are, when I told them in a tizzy that I had just gotten in and I now have a third cat, they stopped at the store and bought some cheese and crackers, knowing dinner may be a ways off.
Everything was fine that evening. The dinner even turned out okay! But, I would pay for not properly introducing Bailey. Everything is cool between Bailey and Sebastian. Everything is still cool between Sebastian and Apollo. Apollo cannot stand Bailey. Oftentimes growls at the site of him. He’s also expert at acting like Bailey has hurt him, when he hasn’t. (I will try and get this documented by video.) Then, kind of a cute but not cool thing happens. When Bailey is (either for a fact or acting) aggressive to Apollo and Apollo yells, Sebastian comes out of nowhere and gives Bailey a few swipes. I guess even though Bailey (who has no ‘blog name) and Seb get along, Seb is more aligned with Ap.
Bailey is a lot happier and healthier, now. See:
And that is why I ended up with two books by my latest idol: Pam Bennett-Johnson. Think Like A Cat and Cat vs. Cat are kind of instrumental in helping me understand what the hell is going on between these three. But those two books – as thorough and well-written as they are – don’t really give me a full explanation. I mean, we are talking about cat sociology/psychology. That would be hard enough to determine in humans. And that is in large part why I decided to start this ‘blog. I think if I write down the day-to-day occurrences, maybe a pattern will emerge. I also want to keep track of my failures and successes. And, ideally, I would like the Pam Bennett-Johnson’s out there to comment and maybe give me some tips. Although I’m more knowledgeable about cats than I was pre-Bailey, I know I still have a long way to go.
Now, while Bailey may look like a glamour puss, he's actually kind of a totally playfull little klutz.
Which is funny, because it looks so unnatural when he romps and leaps - like his cobby frame wasn't meant to do that. It was just meant to lounge around on the bed like this:
Note the toe-hawk action.
Can somebody, please get CuteOverload over here?!?
To recap (from my post about Sebastian):
Then one day in mid-September, I was visiting my parents when we spy a fluffy white cat in their neighbor’s yard.
His name tag said Bailey. And he became cat #3.
My parents had never seen this cat before. They knew the neighborhood cats the way people in neighborhoods do. I go over into my neighbor’s yard (really an empty lot turned extremely bountiful botany experiment)and pick this little guy up. He’s docile as anything and then I see his collars: one cheap flea collar and a brown leather buckled collar with a tag that says: “Bailey” and then gives a phone number.
Being the good citizen/cat-lovers we are, we put this cat in our enclosed front porch with a litter box (my Mom has a few “guest” litter boxes – see, I come by the crazy cat lady thing honestly!), a bowl of water, and a plate of Fancy Feast. Bailey inhales the Fancy Feast. It was hard to tell through the fluff, but he was pretty emaciated. Gave him another can of FF, same thing. Then we put out a bowl of Meow Mix dry food, and I think he was finally full.
We called the number on his collar. Voicemail. Waited a few hours. Again, nothing.
Now my Mom has three cats (though she also has a husband and siginficantly more than 700 sq ft). I had brought Sebastian down to introduce him to the house as my Mom and Dad would be cat sitting while I went on vacation. Plus, he was still small enough to carry around.
Anyway, seeing that this cat might be with us for a while, we make a vets appointment to see if he has Feline Leukemia or Feline AIDS – both highly contagious. The appointment was the following morning.
That morning, my Mom tried the number again. Voicemail. We double-checked the number. Yup, that was it. We started to sense that something was up. I know if my cat were missing, I would be camped out by my cell phone, jumping at every ring.
In any case, I took Bailey to the vets – Middletown Animal Hospital. Dr. Velasquez is our vet of choice, but he wasn’t in that day, so Dr. Yurkas saw him. He gave him an exam and the two tests. He determined that Bailey was about 10 months to a year old and unneutered. The flea collar was useless and a little tight around Bailey’s neck. He had bad teeth from cheap-ass cat food and he was underweight. I think he weighed about 7 pounds at his first apointment. Dr. Y ventured that Bailey was part Himalayan. After he gave his assessment of Bailey’s physical state, he also gave an assessment of his situation: “No one’s gonna come looking for this cat.”
To which I thought: YYYAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY!!!
Because, of course, I had been falling in love with him.
As I pulled back into the driveway of my parent’s house, my Mom called (she was at a doctor’s appointment). She asked about the test results. “Negative, negative. He’s fine.” “Well, then you’ve got yourself a cat.” The cell phone person called. My Mom said she sounded like a teenaged girl. She was giggling and said “teehee Are you the one who keeps calling about a cat? That’s impossible. I don’t have a cat. Teehee”
If there is a heaven, she is so not getting in.
My theory: Bailey was probably a Christmas present. A cute, little white fluffy kitten. They didn’t know the first thing about cat care. Fed him the cheapest food, never took him to the vets. When male cats start reaching the age of sexual maturity - around 6 months, I think-, if they are not neutered, they start spraying to mark their territory. Bitch probably saw it as, “This stupid cat is peeing everywhere.” and kicked him out.
NEVER GIVE AN ANIMAL AS A PRESENT UNLESS YO ARE 200% SURE IT WILL BE TAKEN CARE OF PROPERLY THROUGHOUT ITS ENTIRE LIFE.
Because cute puppies and kittens do turn into what people may perceive as not-as-cute adult cats and dogs.
Do I look a little shorter now? I’m off my soapbox.
So, I chucked Bailey in a cat carrier and my parents kindly drove me, Sebastian, and Bailey back to Brooklyn.
It just so happened I had invited three friends – one of whom was moving away – for dinner. They were on their way when I walked in the door. Luckily, I had bought the salmon fillet and the asparagus the day before.
For all of the hoops I lept through for Sebastian’s introduction, I was the complete opposite with Bailey. I plunked him down on my living room floor and pretty much started cooking. My friends arrived as my parents were leaving. Being the dolls they are, when I told them in a tizzy that I had just gotten in and I now have a third cat, they stopped at the store and bought some cheese and crackers, knowing dinner may be a ways off.
Everything was fine that evening. The dinner even turned out okay! But, I would pay for not properly introducing Bailey. Everything is cool between Bailey and Sebastian. Everything is still cool between Sebastian and Apollo. Apollo cannot stand Bailey. Oftentimes growls at the site of him. He’s also expert at acting like Bailey has hurt him, when he hasn’t. (I will try and get this documented by video.) Then, kind of a cute but not cool thing happens. When Bailey is (either for a fact or acting) aggressive to Apollo and Apollo yells, Sebastian comes out of nowhere and gives Bailey a few swipes. I guess even though Bailey (who has no ‘blog name) and Seb get along, Seb is more aligned with Ap.
Bailey is a lot happier and healthier, now. See:
And that is why I ended up with two books by my latest idol: Pam Bennett-Johnson. Think Like A Cat and Cat vs. Cat are kind of instrumental in helping me understand what the hell is going on between these three. But those two books – as thorough and well-written as they are – don’t really give me a full explanation. I mean, we are talking about cat sociology/psychology. That would be hard enough to determine in humans. And that is in large part why I decided to start this ‘blog. I think if I write down the day-to-day occurrences, maybe a pattern will emerge. I also want to keep track of my failures and successes. And, ideally, I would like the Pam Bennett-Johnson’s out there to comment and maybe give me some tips. Although I’m more knowledgeable about cats than I was pre-Bailey, I know I still have a long way to go.
Now, while Bailey may look like a glamour puss, he's actually kind of a totally playfull little klutz.
Which is funny, because it looks so unnatural when he romps and leaps - like his cobby frame wasn't meant to do that. It was just meant to lounge around on the bed like this:
Note the toe-hawk action.
Can somebody, please get CuteOverload over here?!?
Monday, June 30, 2008
Tattoos and Animal Rescue
What's not to love?
I read about these guys in my North Shore Animal League newsletter.
They're all like ex-cops, firefighters and martial arts experts who are covered in tattoos and go around rescuing animals and educating the public about animal cruelty. How awesome is that?
Of course, my favorite is Des - "The Cat Man."
I think that pretty much goes without saying.
I read about these guys in my North Shore Animal League newsletter.
They're all like ex-cops, firefighters and martial arts experts who are covered in tattoos and go around rescuing animals and educating the public about animal cruelty. How awesome is that?
Of course, my favorite is Des - "The Cat Man."
I think that pretty much goes without saying.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
When the Feliway runs out...
I'm going kind of out of order here, 'cause I haven't even told you (whoever you is at this time) about Bailey yet, but let's go a little out of order. I wouldn't want to be a slouchy blogger, now would I? Plus, I'm at work, it's alomst 7pm, I got time to kill before going out. Here goes...
The full story will follow, but I got Bailey.
I did not carefully introduce him into the home like I did Sebastian. Hence (probably), this is why Apollo and Bailey do not get along. This will all be documented soon enough.
To help alleviate the strife, I invested in a product called Comfort Zone w/ Feliway. And, you know what? IT WORKS!!!
For 4 weeks. Then it stops working. And without keeping track, you know how I know it works? Because the tentative truce that Bailey and Apollo have forged becomes instantly dismantled. Bailey starts charging at Apollo. Apollo will cry Holy Hell when Bailey tries to walk past him.
To be honest, I don't know who the agressor is. I think it changes. Like Bailey will be dociley (is that a word) walking across the room and Apollo will yell and growl. At feeding time, Bailey will sprawl across the threshold of the kitchen so Apollo can't pass. When Apollo's on the bed at night, he hunts the perimeter so Bailey can't jump up. But, in the morning he ceases to care.
That's why I started this 'blog, really. To keep track of their day-by-day lives, and try and make some sense of it. Maybe an expert will stumble upon this fair, old website and give me some free advice. Who knows?
The full story will follow, but I got Bailey.
I did not carefully introduce him into the home like I did Sebastian. Hence (probably), this is why Apollo and Bailey do not get along. This will all be documented soon enough.
To help alleviate the strife, I invested in a product called Comfort Zone w/ Feliway. And, you know what? IT WORKS!!!
For 4 weeks. Then it stops working. And without keeping track, you know how I know it works? Because the tentative truce that Bailey and Apollo have forged becomes instantly dismantled. Bailey starts charging at Apollo. Apollo will cry Holy Hell when Bailey tries to walk past him.
To be honest, I don't know who the agressor is. I think it changes. Like Bailey will be dociley (is that a word) walking across the room and Apollo will yell and growl. At feeding time, Bailey will sprawl across the threshold of the kitchen so Apollo can't pass. When Apollo's on the bed at night, he hunts the perimeter so Bailey can't jump up. But, in the morning he ceases to care.
That's why I started this 'blog, really. To keep track of their day-by-day lives, and try and make some sense of it. Maybe an expert will stumble upon this fair, old website and give me some free advice. Who knows?
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Sebastian...you're in a mess...
When a beloved pet passes away, there are basically two courses of action: try and replace him with a cat that looks exactly like it or get a pet that is completely different. I opted for the latter. I was, however, very specific in whatkind of cat I wanted: an 8-week-old, male, gray, non-tabby.
Luckily I started my search in what many people referred to as “kitten season,” which falls in about mid-June. First stop: the ASPCA on 92nd Street. The ASPCA has long been on my list of “year end donations,” so it was a logical first step. After filling out the application, and my referrences (my Dad and Sister) attested to what a great kitten mom I would be, I was led to the kitten ward. Needless to say, the rows and rows of cats up for adoption is heartbreaking. I can only hope they all found good homes.
I was not one of those homes. I felt bad about it, but I was sticking to my guns: grey, male, 8-weeks old. And, it was early June, so the fruits of kitten season hadn’t quite bore out. Lots of tabbys, lots of black and whites. And, though I have a ton of respect for the ASPCA, they have a policy of neutering the kittens at 2 months old, which I don’t agree with. I can see their reasoning which is bascially make sure that an irresponsible owner won’t result in more kittens, but it’s not how I wanted to start out. So, it was off to Bid-A-Wee, on waaay east 38th Street. I got their at 4:05. They close at 4 on Sundays.
Dammit!
Last stop: Kitty Kind, which operates out of PetCo in Union Square. And what did I find at Kitty Kind?
Yup, I held out and ‘lo and behold. He was the less aggressive of the two boys in his litter and he was so comfy when I held him. He was mine. Though, note to future Kitty Kind Adopters: the fee is $125. CASH. And the deal Kitty Kind has cut with PetCo is they let them have their space in the store,and when a cat gets adopted, they encourage you to shop the store for all of the provisions. I picked up: a tiny litter box, two new bowls, a toy for the kitten, a toy for Apollo (as bribery), 7 cans of moist kitten food(Science Diet), and a new cat carrier. Grand total: $70 (credit). Along with the adoption, I got a free bag of Science Diet dry kitten food. Woohoo!
Me, the as-yet-unnamed kitten, and all of my provisions hopped on the subway home. A group of teenaged, South Carolinan missionaries told me I should name him “Gizmo.” Um…no.
My parents had adopted two kittens the year before, and right after, my Mom had found “The Kitten Owner’s Manual” by Arden Moore in the bargain bin at Barnes and Nobles. I had taken it from her and duly followed their instructions as to introducing a new pet. I put “Kitten” in the bathroom (the only room in my apartment with a door), set up the tiny litter box, put down some food and water, put his toy down, and played with…Apollo and his new toy.
Yup, hard as it is, that’s what you’re supposed to do. Apollo got my undivided attention most of the time. I’m not gonna lie – of course I went in to play with the kitten. But, it was pretty much all about Apollo.
And “Kitten” stayed in the bathroom for the next few days. Sometimes he would mewl and Apollo would glare at the door, but for the most part, that phase went well.
Then I switched them around. Apollo in the bathroom, kitten everywhere else. That’s when I really saw the absolute brazeness of this small creature. He was everywhere, scurrying about. Then I let them together, and…it went okay. Apollo was a little growly and Kitten couldn’t care less. But, within a few days, Apollo and Kitten were getting along. Nowhere near to the adoration for each other that Jakuma and Apollo had, but they got along well enough. At dinner time (in the kitchen for both, now), the very small kitten would scurry under Apollo’s stomach, he couldn’t contain his excitement. He actually did that last week, which was hilarous because Sebastian is bigger than Apollo now.
The name came from the band Belle and Sebastian, of whom I am a lifelong fan. I wanted to name the kitten something literary (I was close to Dimitri, as I had just finished the Brothers Karamazov), and my Mom was like, “Well, Belle and Sebastian are a literary band.” Which is true. So, there you have it.
Sebastian is now over a year old, which in cat years means he’s kind of a teenager. He’s pretty big, not huge, but big and still very energetic. He has this game he plays since he was a kitten. He picks up one of his toys, carries it in his mouth, jumps up on my bed while I’m still sleeping, drops the toy on my back then chases it wherever it rolls. His favorite time to play this game is 4am. He’s backed off of this game a bit, but sometimes he likes to revive it. Yay. Often it ends up with me hiding his toy in the drawer of my nightstand. He gives me this “aw, but I was having fun” look that does break my heart a little, but I’m a realist, and I have to get up in 3 hours. He can sleep and play all day long!
He also had this awful habit when he was little of chasing Apollo away from his food. Apollo has a very blasé attitude towards food. He’s had a cushty life, so he’s never had to worry about it. Remember how I mentioned Sebastian was brazen? Yeah, not a good combination. Sebastian inhales his food while Apollo slowly, daintily eats his. When Seb (that’s his ‘blog name) was finished, he would nuzzle his way into Apollo’s dish. Apollo – not giving a shit – would just walk away. No good! BUT! Through patience and perseverence, I was able to train Sebastian to wait until Ap (his ‘blog name) was finished and then he could clean the bowl out if he wanted. How did I do it? When Seb would be finished, I would stand between him and Apollo. Simple as that. I mean, it wasn’t quite siimple. There was some dancing around to do on my part. If Seb was being super aggressive, I would pick him up and hold him until Ap was finished. (See the “corporal cuddling” from the video.) And then one day, Seb finished his food, and went and just laid down across the hall from the kitchen door. Eventually, when Apollo finished, Seb would walk over to his bowl and eat the leftovers. And when Bailey came along, also a slow eater which is suprising as you will find out next post, Sebasian does the same – waits until he’s done, then cleans the bowls.
I mean, he doesn’t always clean the bowls. He’s not that fat, I don’t think. He might be. Actually, the last time I took Apollo to the vets, I was worried he was underweight. The vet admitted that maybe he was slightly underweight, but that most house cats are overweight, so a normal weight house cat seems thin. Seb is due to the vets soon. We’ll see the verdict.
Anyway. So, Apollo and Sebastian got along quite well, ultimately. They’d play wrestle like Jak (his ‘blog name) and Ap used to. They’d clean each other a bit. They never really curled up with each other the way J and A (see, now I’m just getting lazy) used to, but I think their relationship was exceptional. All in all, I was happy. And for the next 3 and a ½ months, the three of us were quite content. Me, 700 square feet, and two cats, just like before.
For the record, this is a photo of Jak and Ap shortly before Jakuma passed away. Can't you feel the love?
Then one day in mid-September, I was visiting my parents when we spy a fluffy white cat in their neighbor’s yard.
His name tag said Bailey. And he became cat #3.
Luckily I started my search in what many people referred to as “kitten season,” which falls in about mid-June. First stop: the ASPCA on 92nd Street. The ASPCA has long been on my list of “year end donations,” so it was a logical first step. After filling out the application, and my referrences (my Dad and Sister) attested to what a great kitten mom I would be, I was led to the kitten ward. Needless to say, the rows and rows of cats up for adoption is heartbreaking. I can only hope they all found good homes.
I was not one of those homes. I felt bad about it, but I was sticking to my guns: grey, male, 8-weeks old. And, it was early June, so the fruits of kitten season hadn’t quite bore out. Lots of tabbys, lots of black and whites. And, though I have a ton of respect for the ASPCA, they have a policy of neutering the kittens at 2 months old, which I don’t agree with. I can see their reasoning which is bascially make sure that an irresponsible owner won’t result in more kittens, but it’s not how I wanted to start out. So, it was off to Bid-A-Wee, on waaay east 38th Street. I got their at 4:05. They close at 4 on Sundays.
Dammit!
Last stop: Kitty Kind, which operates out of PetCo in Union Square. And what did I find at Kitty Kind?
Yup, I held out and ‘lo and behold. He was the less aggressive of the two boys in his litter and he was so comfy when I held him. He was mine. Though, note to future Kitty Kind Adopters: the fee is $125. CASH. And the deal Kitty Kind has cut with PetCo is they let them have their space in the store,and when a cat gets adopted, they encourage you to shop the store for all of the provisions. I picked up: a tiny litter box, two new bowls, a toy for the kitten, a toy for Apollo (as bribery), 7 cans of moist kitten food(Science Diet), and a new cat carrier. Grand total: $70 (credit). Along with the adoption, I got a free bag of Science Diet dry kitten food. Woohoo!
Me, the as-yet-unnamed kitten, and all of my provisions hopped on the subway home. A group of teenaged, South Carolinan missionaries told me I should name him “Gizmo.” Um…no.
My parents had adopted two kittens the year before, and right after, my Mom had found “The Kitten Owner’s Manual” by Arden Moore in the bargain bin at Barnes and Nobles. I had taken it from her and duly followed their instructions as to introducing a new pet. I put “Kitten” in the bathroom (the only room in my apartment with a door), set up the tiny litter box, put down some food and water, put his toy down, and played with…Apollo and his new toy.
Yup, hard as it is, that’s what you’re supposed to do. Apollo got my undivided attention most of the time. I’m not gonna lie – of course I went in to play with the kitten. But, it was pretty much all about Apollo.
And “Kitten” stayed in the bathroom for the next few days. Sometimes he would mewl and Apollo would glare at the door, but for the most part, that phase went well.
Then I switched them around. Apollo in the bathroom, kitten everywhere else. That’s when I really saw the absolute brazeness of this small creature. He was everywhere, scurrying about. Then I let them together, and…it went okay. Apollo was a little growly and Kitten couldn’t care less. But, within a few days, Apollo and Kitten were getting along. Nowhere near to the adoration for each other that Jakuma and Apollo had, but they got along well enough. At dinner time (in the kitchen for both, now), the very small kitten would scurry under Apollo’s stomach, he couldn’t contain his excitement. He actually did that last week, which was hilarous because Sebastian is bigger than Apollo now.
The name came from the band Belle and Sebastian, of whom I am a lifelong fan. I wanted to name the kitten something literary (I was close to Dimitri, as I had just finished the Brothers Karamazov), and my Mom was like, “Well, Belle and Sebastian are a literary band.” Which is true. So, there you have it.
Sebastian is now over a year old, which in cat years means he’s kind of a teenager. He’s pretty big, not huge, but big and still very energetic. He has this game he plays since he was a kitten. He picks up one of his toys, carries it in his mouth, jumps up on my bed while I’m still sleeping, drops the toy on my back then chases it wherever it rolls. His favorite time to play this game is 4am. He’s backed off of this game a bit, but sometimes he likes to revive it. Yay. Often it ends up with me hiding his toy in the drawer of my nightstand. He gives me this “aw, but I was having fun” look that does break my heart a little, but I’m a realist, and I have to get up in 3 hours. He can sleep and play all day long!
He also had this awful habit when he was little of chasing Apollo away from his food. Apollo has a very blasé attitude towards food. He’s had a cushty life, so he’s never had to worry about it. Remember how I mentioned Sebastian was brazen? Yeah, not a good combination. Sebastian inhales his food while Apollo slowly, daintily eats his. When Seb (that’s his ‘blog name) was finished, he would nuzzle his way into Apollo’s dish. Apollo – not giving a shit – would just walk away. No good! BUT! Through patience and perseverence, I was able to train Sebastian to wait until Ap (his ‘blog name) was finished and then he could clean the bowl out if he wanted. How did I do it? When Seb would be finished, I would stand between him and Apollo. Simple as that. I mean, it wasn’t quite siimple. There was some dancing around to do on my part. If Seb was being super aggressive, I would pick him up and hold him until Ap was finished. (See the “corporal cuddling” from the video.) And then one day, Seb finished his food, and went and just laid down across the hall from the kitchen door. Eventually, when Apollo finished, Seb would walk over to his bowl and eat the leftovers. And when Bailey came along, also a slow eater which is suprising as you will find out next post, Sebasian does the same – waits until he’s done, then cleans the bowls.
I mean, he doesn’t always clean the bowls. He’s not that fat, I don’t think. He might be. Actually, the last time I took Apollo to the vets, I was worried he was underweight. The vet admitted that maybe he was slightly underweight, but that most house cats are overweight, so a normal weight house cat seems thin. Seb is due to the vets soon. We’ll see the verdict.
Anyway. So, Apollo and Sebastian got along quite well, ultimately. They’d play wrestle like Jak (his ‘blog name) and Ap used to. They’d clean each other a bit. They never really curled up with each other the way J and A (see, now I’m just getting lazy) used to, but I think their relationship was exceptional. All in all, I was happy. And for the next 3 and a ½ months, the three of us were quite content. Me, 700 square feet, and two cats, just like before.
For the record, this is a photo of Jak and Ap shortly before Jakuma passed away. Can't you feel the love?
Then one day in mid-September, I was visiting my parents when we spy a fluffy white cat in their neighbor’s yard.
His name tag said Bailey. And he became cat #3.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Givin' Props...
I know this video has been around for a while, but this is where I got the name of this blog from. So, gotta give props where props is due, as some may say.
Enjoy!
(btw, I'm a Professional Engineer...)
Enjoy!
(btw, I'm a Professional Engineer...)
Monday, June 9, 2008
In the beginning....
Okay, so that's a cheesy way to start off my first post about my first cat, but whatever.
March, 1996. I was living in Mali, West Africa with the Peace Corps. I lived in a "city" called Sikasso: three paved roads, 100,000 people. The house I inherited from the guy I was replacing was a pretty big compound with a main "modern" house, a garage, a gazebo, and a bungalow. In this bungalow lived a Bamabara man by the name of Coulibaly. Coulibaly's main occupation was that of a garabou or witch doctor ("traditional healer" in PC terms, but I find "witch doctor" packs more punch).
Anyways, after having cat-sitted for a fellow volunteer Coulibaly noted, rather amusingly because pets - especially cats - are not a common thing there, my attachment to the cats I was cat-sitting. One was a wiley female grey tabby and the other was a big 'ole black Tom. Coulibaly was especially impressed with the black Tom, which was odd because the Bambara believe that solid black cats shape shift into sorceresses at night.
In any case, I returned the cats to my fellow volunteer. Soon after, Coulibaly had to go into the bush to gather up medicine. When he came back a week later, I asked him for my souvenir (a sort-of joke there). He plunked down on my porch, a cardboard box with airholes containing an 8-week old, solid black, male kitten. I was mildly shocked to say the least. I brought the kitten inside and the rest is a very long, intricate history. I will get into that at another time.
To make an exteremely long story short: when my serivce was complete, I packed the cat up and come June, 1998, my Dad drove to JFK airport to pick up a fully mature, non-neutered, semi-feral black male cat by the name of Jakuma (whch means "cat" in Bambara. Creative, aren't I?) His journey to the States included a 48-hour layover in Brussels, due to his missing his connecting flight.
From there, after a thoroughly first world neutering, we moved to Ithaca, NY where he grew in his first winter coat at the age of 3. His first stab at a winter coat came in a little patchy, but come winter '99 he had gotten the hang of it. He had also gained about 4 pounds and had serenly adjusted to the life of your average American housecat.
We then moved to Brooklyn, where I started my first "real" job in March of '99. When I swtiched apartments that November, I still had the same landlord, Howard (RIP), and never was there a greater cat lover. Whe he brought the keys over, he also brought over a pet carrier with two 6 week old kittens. He had kept insisting that Jakuma needs a friend and had just rescued a pregnant female a couple of months earlier and would I like one of these kittens, ready to be weaned from their mother in a few weeks? He paid for the first round of shots and let me deduct the neutering 4 months later from my rent.
Enter Apollo. A playful (what kitten isn't?) little brown tabby. After a questionable couple of days with Jakuma growling at the bathroom door where Apollo was kept, he came around. Not only did he come around, but Jakuma and Apollo became the best of friends. They cleaned each other, used each other for pillows. If Jakuma would accidentally get a little rough and hurt Apollo after a wrestle, he would give him a tender lick. Really, the best of friends.
On March 24, 2007, Jakuma died in a car service on the way to the Animal Hospital on Warren Street. From the description I gave the vet, it became apparrent that he had had a stroke. While 11 is on the young side for an indoor cat, I think anyone would agree that he had a hell of a life.
I was, of course, devastated, and Apollo became confused, sad, and then needy. After sufficient grieving time, on June 2nd, 2007, I adopted an 8-week old grey and white tuxedo kitten and called him Sebastian.
And that is currently cat #2.
March, 1996. I was living in Mali, West Africa with the Peace Corps. I lived in a "city" called Sikasso: three paved roads, 100,000 people. The house I inherited from the guy I was replacing was a pretty big compound with a main "modern" house, a garage, a gazebo, and a bungalow. In this bungalow lived a Bamabara man by the name of Coulibaly. Coulibaly's main occupation was that of a garabou or witch doctor ("traditional healer" in PC terms, but I find "witch doctor" packs more punch).
Anyways, after having cat-sitted for a fellow volunteer Coulibaly noted, rather amusingly because pets - especially cats - are not a common thing there, my attachment to the cats I was cat-sitting. One was a wiley female grey tabby and the other was a big 'ole black Tom. Coulibaly was especially impressed with the black Tom, which was odd because the Bambara believe that solid black cats shape shift into sorceresses at night.
In any case, I returned the cats to my fellow volunteer. Soon after, Coulibaly had to go into the bush to gather up medicine. When he came back a week later, I asked him for my souvenir (a sort-of joke there). He plunked down on my porch, a cardboard box with airholes containing an 8-week old, solid black, male kitten. I was mildly shocked to say the least. I brought the kitten inside and the rest is a very long, intricate history. I will get into that at another time.
To make an exteremely long story short: when my serivce was complete, I packed the cat up and come June, 1998, my Dad drove to JFK airport to pick up a fully mature, non-neutered, semi-feral black male cat by the name of Jakuma (whch means "cat" in Bambara. Creative, aren't I?) His journey to the States included a 48-hour layover in Brussels, due to his missing his connecting flight.
From there, after a thoroughly first world neutering, we moved to Ithaca, NY where he grew in his first winter coat at the age of 3. His first stab at a winter coat came in a little patchy, but come winter '99 he had gotten the hang of it. He had also gained about 4 pounds and had serenly adjusted to the life of your average American housecat.
We then moved to Brooklyn, where I started my first "real" job in March of '99. When I swtiched apartments that November, I still had the same landlord, Howard (RIP), and never was there a greater cat lover. Whe he brought the keys over, he also brought over a pet carrier with two 6 week old kittens. He had kept insisting that Jakuma needs a friend and had just rescued a pregnant female a couple of months earlier and would I like one of these kittens, ready to be weaned from their mother in a few weeks? He paid for the first round of shots and let me deduct the neutering 4 months later from my rent.
Enter Apollo. A playful (what kitten isn't?) little brown tabby. After a questionable couple of days with Jakuma growling at the bathroom door where Apollo was kept, he came around. Not only did he come around, but Jakuma and Apollo became the best of friends. They cleaned each other, used each other for pillows. If Jakuma would accidentally get a little rough and hurt Apollo after a wrestle, he would give him a tender lick. Really, the best of friends.
On March 24, 2007, Jakuma died in a car service on the way to the Animal Hospital on Warren Street. From the description I gave the vet, it became apparrent that he had had a stroke. While 11 is on the young side for an indoor cat, I think anyone would agree that he had a hell of a life.
I was, of course, devastated, and Apollo became confused, sad, and then needy. After sufficient grieving time, on June 2nd, 2007, I adopted an 8-week old grey and white tuxedo kitten and called him Sebastian.
And that is currently cat #2.
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